Canada

Après Bouchard

IF THE idea of seceding from Canada could ever be sold to the people of Quebec, Lucien Bouchard had seemed the man to sell it. Last week, however, the mercurial Mr Bouchard abruptly resigned from his dual role as premier of Quebec and head of the separatist Parti Québécois (PQ). So is Canada saved?

Much of English Canada seems to think so. “The nightmare of Quebec separatism has receded,” said Roy Romanow, the outgoing premier of Saskatchewan. Such triumphalism may be premature: polls show almost 40% still want secession. But Mr Bouchard's exit is certainly a heavy blow to an ailing cause.

In a referendum in 1995, Mr Bouchard, then the secessionists' leader in the federal parliament, was brought in to rescue a floundering yes campaign. He took the secessionists to within a percentage point (or 50,000 votes) of achieving their goal of breaking up the country. That persuaded Jacques Parizeau, the PQ's leader of the day, that the party's best bet was to have Mr Bouchard running matters in Quebec city.

A truck driver's son who loves Proust, he was much more popular than either his party or its raison d'être. His successor, who may not be chosen until May, will struggle to match his broad appeal. The main contenders are Bernard Landry, Quebec's deputy premier and finance minister, and Pauline Marois, the province's health minister. The leadership contest will see much soul-searching about the PQ's function and future. Already, one of the party's veteran ministers has asked whether it is time to drop Article 1 of its constitution: the commitment to an independent Quebec. Others disagree.

In five years as premier, Mr Bouchard balanced the books and governed firmly, trying to create what he termed “winning conditions” for another referendum. But he was always distrusted by the PQ's “purs et durs”—the hardliners who questioned his constancy to the cause. Brought up in a secessionist heartland in northern Quebec, Mr Bouchard has swung from party to party, and flipped back and forth between backing a united Canada and an independent Quebec. In that, perhaps, he mirrored the ambivalence of Quebeckers at large.

The hardliners wanted a third referendum soon after the 1995 squeaker, and disliked their premier's go-slow approach. The sniping came from an entrenched but small faction; Mr Bouchard won 91% approval at a party meeting last May. But it irritated the thin-skinned premier, as he showed in a speech in the legislature last month in which he attacked one of his most vocal critics for complaining that Jews believe they are the only people to have suffered.

Mr Bouchard devoted much of his resignation speech to lambasting the xenophobic, intolerant elements within the PQ. But he was probably telling the truth when he said that they were not the reason for his departure. There were personal motives. Aged 62, Mr Bouchard has two young sons from his marriage to a Californian wife who has never managed to hide her distaste for politics, and especially separatist politics.

One man who can take particular satisfaction from Mr Bouchard's departure is Jean Chrétien, Canada's prime minister. His tough approach to separatism was codified last year in the Clarity Act, which erects big legal obstacles to any break-up of Canada. To Mr Bouchard's annoyance, Quebec's voters reacted with indifference. In a federal election in November, the separatists suffered losses in the province to Mr Chrétien's Liberals. That showed how unpromising were Mr Bouchard's chances of ever becoming father of an independent Quebec. Even so, he would doubtless have stayed on for at least a day had he realised that he had chosen to resign on Mr Chrétien's birthday.